


Bridges Burning - Fenris/Hawke One-Shot

by Aneth_Stripes



Series: Dragon Age - Fractured Timelines [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Oh buddy oh god, One Shot, Romance, Walk Into A Bar, and see your ex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25978492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneth_Stripes/pseuds/Aneth_Stripes
Summary: A great friend suggested I listen to Bridges Burning by Wild Child and it gave me intense Arc 2/3 feels for Fenris and his relationship (or lack thereof) with Hawke. It inspired this sad work that I'm pretty proud of. Give it a listen and cry as I did.Enjoy!
Relationships: Fenris & Female Hawke, Fenris (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Fenris/Female Hawke, Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age)
Series: Dragon Age - Fractured Timelines [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917967
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Bridges Burning - Fenris/Hawke One-Shot

_"Wait for me."_

She understood. She had to understand that maybe...maybe that was what he meant. Right? Hawke's lips pressed together as she struggled to blink the tears away. She didn't need to do this, not again. 

_"I need you to wait for me."_

Even as she had her companions by her side, smiling and chatting idly about the different ventures they've had to endure, the woman still felt empty. Empty, desolate, isolated; Fenris had ruined her in the worst ways...and she let him.

_"I need you to wait, I know the bridge's burning fast."_

Hawke gripped her drink, struggling to ignore the singer's gentle yet grounded tone even as it seeped into her mind. Did the singer know? Was this all a hoax to make her feel worse than before?

Maker's Breath, she was _trying_ ! Fenris wanted to be left alone but this...this was so much more than that. He didn't just need a break, he _walked away from her_ . She tried to pretend that it didn't hurt, tried to understand that Fenris had gained and lost everything in an instant, but in walking away, he lost her...he _chose_ to lose her.

_"Baby please, I need you to wait for me; I want you to wait, I know the bridge's burning fast."_

Her fingers gripped the mug of her drink harder as she took a deep breath. She needed to calm down; by the Grace of Andraste, the last thing people needed to see was their Champion in emotional ruin.

"Hey, you're lookin' a little pale there. Well, more pale than normal." Isabela grinned at her joke, raising an eyebrow as she watched her friend. 

"Honestly with the pressure on her back, can you blame her?" Aveline retorted, scowling before shooting a smile in Hawke's direction. "I have to agree with Isabela, however; what is plaguing you, my friend?" 

"Nothing worth mentioning," Hawke played off, raising her drink and forcing a smile on her face. "A toast to the one night where things go right."

"And that right there is a jinx," Isabela half-teased, raising her glass. Aveline laughed and followed suit, the three of them down their drink soon after. Despite trying to distract the women from prying into her mind, she felt a little better thanks to the energy.

Hawke felt her shoulders relax and a genuine smile slipping back onto her face. Thinking about Fenris was difficult. Thinking about how he walked away, as understandable and valid as it was, broke her heart. She would often dive into her work to keep busy. It was her only saving grace where all else failed; no one who knew could soothe the ache left in her body, mind, and soul.

Still, even after he walked away, even after she'd tried to see him the first few times, even when she tried to speak to him when he assisted with her quests, he would refuse her. It wasn't that he ever spoke to her; the pain in his eyes said enough, from the way he looked at her to the way he reacted whenever she tried to approach him.

Even if she knew, even, even, even… Soon after she killed the Arishok, they no longer spoke. She never found him in the Hanged Man, never in his empty mansion; Fenris had made good on disappearing from her life completely. Sometimes...sometimes she saw faint whisps of white hair flicker and the familiar glow of lyrium. She hated it, hated the sway the fool had over her.

It had only been a year and a half but it was already too long for her to think he would ever return to her. Why would he? Perhaps Hawke had done something unfavorable. Maker, what was she to do? _‘I need to stop thinking about him.’_ Far easier said than done. She was doing well so far; there wasn’t anything stopping her from continuing to...let go of him forever. 

She took a sip of her drink once a new one was poured and allowed her muscles to relax. Right, there was no sense in fretting over it again, not now. She was supposed to be enjoying her friends’ company while she had the chance to. Hawke’s head started to bounce as the music had changed to a more lively tune, something that she very much needed at that moment. 

This change in tone would have stayed, perhaps, if the hairs on the back of her neck hadn’t stood on end. 

The Champion’s hair flickered as she turned her head before thinking, her body stilling as everything seemed to...stop. It didn’t surprise her that he would come here of all places; he was friends with Varric, and the dwarf did practically thrive in the Hanged Man after all. But it still _floored_ her to see him as majestic and rugged as before. 

Fenris stopped where he stood, emerald eyes meeting hers almost instantly. The two stood, frozen in time as it were, staring at each other as if they were back in her room with the doors closed. She could still smell him, taste him, _feel_ him. 

No, she told her overactive mind, don’t do it. He did not want to be approached, she knew this. It hurt her freshly; the wound had never closed and it might never. She was in love with Fenris, no matter what she did or say to try and state the opposite. There would never be another like him, not in her lifetime. 

His body was taut, braced for her to try to approach him. Her fingers squeezed her mug as she managed a broken smile, raising it to him before turning back to keep from crying. Hawke didn’t know what to show him; she was alive and well, but she was also broken and longing for him the way a beggar longs for a meal. Despite all of this, despite how she felt, she still refused to approach him. He didn’t want her right now, or at least didn’t think he needed to want her. 

The warrior elf had his trauma and issues to work on, and it was clear he needed to work on them _alone_. As much as it pained her, she would accept this and...and wait for him. Could she last as long as he might need? Would he ever come back to her? Her chest tightened but she refused to cave into her wants and desires, not when Fenris’ dealings were far more important. 

No, she could handle this, wait for him, even as her chest threatened to combust in seeing him. She wouldn’t turn around again, for both their sakes. Instead, she pretended to hear a joke Isabela had metaphorically pulled out of her ass and laughed. She’d laugh because if she didn’t...she’d cry for sure. 

-

“If you stare at her hard enough, she _might_ turn around again.” 

Fenris blinked in surprise but didn’t jump. He was startled that Varric was watching, granted this _was_ Varric he was gaming with. Hawke hadn’t left the building like he thought she would, but she hadn’t tried to approach him either. Was he expecting it? Hoping for it? “She won’t,” he assured his Dwarven friend. He liked to think he knew Hawke better than that. 

The smirk on Varric’s face added to that assurance. “I know, I just wanted to see your reaction.” Varric let alone the game of Wicked Grace to watch someone he’d considered a friend. “Mind if I ask a question?” 

“Didn’t you already?” Fenris had a feeling he would not like what Varric had to say, but he had the floor regardless and the smug idiot knew it. He would let his friend speak his peace if only to make him quiet about it. 

“Why make her wait?” Varric crossed his arms and glanced in Hawke’s direction. “You’ve seen what she’s capable of, what she can do. Do you believe she can’t handle whatever comes your way, or is this more about what you can or cannot handle?” 

Fenris frowned but didn’t dodge the question. “She doesn’t deserve me in this state right now, Varric. I don’t even know what I am let alone if I’m ready to be with anyone.” 

“True, true,” Varric said with his hands raised. “I won’t press further if you don’t want me to.” 

“I don’t.” It was difficult enough to turn Hawke away whenever the situation presented itself, but it was worse for him knowing that she was now content with this. She had to have been with how she blatantly ignored his presence. No, it wasn’t that, was it? He was being unfair to her; he took what was precious, led her on, and then stopped it shortly after. 

It mattered none how valid his reasons were, he still hurt her then as he was hurting her now. He wasn’t going to lie to himself just as he was sure she wasn’t lying to herself either: She still loved him. Even as she smiled and turned it away, he could still see the adoration and admiration deep in those eyes of hers. 

Maker, but he was being a fool. And yet...yet he couldn’t bring himself to come to her. He wasn’t ready yet, knew deep down that he was not prepared to be entangled with anyone until he was certain or what or who he was. Not only that, but Danarius was also still a threat.

Fenris was not going to put Hawke in any more danger right now. He wasn’t going to be the one to hurt her again. As painful as keeping separate from her was, it was the only way to keep her more out of harm’s way. 

Yet the way her lips curved when she smiled...the bodice dress that hugged her body nicely and the twinkle in her eyes when she laughed...he missed it, all of it. He missed Hawke. It was torture but it was what he deserved right now for leading her on and hurting her in the first place. He could never ask for her forgiveness or for her to come back. 

Hawke was safe and happy where she was; even if she longed for him, perhaps she would get over him...perhaps not. Varric was watching him closely but Fenris was not about to indulge his friend in the madness playing out in his mind. He turned to get back to the game, but his focus had stayed on the pretty Champion all night, far after she’d left the Hanged Man tipsy and giggling about something stupid. 

Would she still smell him on her bed when she slept tonight? He’d selfishly hoped so before chastising his conflicted mind. Fenris didn’t need to think about her, but she’s all he’s thought about since he started becoming smitten with her. 

As he left the tavern, his fingers idly rubbed the fabric that was around his wrist; a red, flashing token of his infatuation with her. Even though he knew he should be rid of it, it was the only thing that made him feel happy...and reminded him of how much of a fool he was. It surprised him how she hadn’t moved onto Anders yet; the mage was just as infatuated with her, yet based on what Varric had told him, Hawke was still single. 

Why? Did she wait for him? Fenris grit his teeth and shook his head. She was a foolish woman, but wasn’t he a foolish man? Even though he pushed her away, even though he was sure this was the right choice to make, he still _missed_ her.

What he didn’t say to Varric was that he’d paused to watch Hawke, see the misery in her body’s movements as the strings struck a chord in inside him as he was sure it had done to her. He leaned against the tavern’s outside wall and exhaled loudly as an uncomfortable shudder passed through him. 

_“I know, it's been too long; The same old song for you to hear,”_ he sang under his breath, unraveling the red sash around his wrist and catching what slipped out. His fingers caressed the treasured item, one that he was sure Hawke knew nothing of. 

_“I don't want to say goodbye; Know that I’ve been gone when you needed me here.”_ Maker, he sounded as broken as she probably felt. Was he taken with her, taken so much that he would still keep this favor over a year later? Would Hawke ever accept him again? 

He pulled away from the wall and strolled through the dark streets, eyes threatening to tear up. Fenris thought he was stronger than this, but every time he saw her he knew...he knew he’d never get over her. _“Know I’ve done wrong; Know I’ve been bad; Just hopin' after all I’ve put you through you'd mend.”_

Hawke truly loved him and all he was doing was breaking her. She was strong, stronger than him, but would she wait for him? As if it was meant to be, Fenris stopped before the doors of her home, head angled to take in the better life she’d created for herself. _What a woman._ She took back her livelihood, her heritage, and made life better for her family. 

Hawke was without a doubt incredible. To think that he was leaving her alone for so long...

Fenris wrapped the red sash around his wrist again, closing his eyes before tears could escape. He would not cry. He would _not_. He didn’t deserve to, did he? His hand outstretched to the door, resting his fingers on the fine wood as he took a deep breath. 

_‘Just maybe, it'll be alright; I'll learn my lessons and you'll be back by my side.’_

What kind of idiot would she be to ever take him back? Truly this was the one burned bridge he could never cross again. Truly...but even so. He would hope that maybe one day he could finally cross that threshold, finally go to her, embrace her. He finally pulled his hand away and turned from the door, no longer fighting the sorrow that was swallowing him whole. 

Perhaps one day she would embrace him back.

“Wait for me,” he pleaded. _“Wait for me.”_


End file.
